03/20/2010
"Do you want some pasta?"
"Sure."
"Here."
"Wait a minute. This meat sauce. Is this the bison meat you bought yesterday?"
"Yeah, so?"
"I'm not eating it."
"Why not?"
"I can't eat bison."
"Why not?"
"I'm not as adventurous as you."
"What are you talking about? You bought scalped Don Rickles tickets at a gas station parking lot at 5am in a bad section of town from a guy you found on craigslist. That's not adventurous?"
"Maybe. But I'm still not eating bison."
"But it's just a wild cow."
"I don't care, I like..regular cows."
"You'll eat a half-crippled heifer shot up with hormones, twitching from mad cow disease, hoof-deep in his own feces at a concentration camp on the side of the I-5 freeway, but you won't eat a healthy, free-roaming bison who's been eating grass and sipping spring water and kicking back in an open field reading Keats and Shelley?"
"Keats and Shelley?"
"Just try it."
"No. Wait a minute, you eat cows all the time. I've never heard you bitch about hormones and concentration camps before."
"Think of it this way. If you were a cannibal, would you want to eat some scrawny, scab-picking, crystal meth dealer on a 10 year jag at San Quentin, or a happy-go-lucky mountain climber who's been frolicking in fields of daisies and freely swinging his meat in the open air?"
"Are you seriously using cannibalism as a way of getting me to eat that shit?"
"OK, bad example."
"And the visual of swinging testicles is not exactly making me hungry."
"Really? Not even a brief, salival squirt at that moment?"
"Salival. Nice."
"Look, native Americans lived on Bison for centuries, eating the meat, using the bones for tools, and tanning the hides to keep warm. They would even pray to the Great Bison Spirit in the sky, thanking him for the bounty and asking that the soul of the killed bison be allowed into bison heaven."
"Did you pray to the Great Bison Spirit before you made that fucking spaghetti sauce?"
"No."
"Then shut the fuck up."
"OK, one more try. It's a leaner, healthier cut of beef from a free-range animal with USDA approval, inspected, packaged, and then purchased from the same grocery store we always shop at. How about that?"
"It's bison. I'm not eating it."
"What if it were 2012 and the world started crumbling beneath your feet and you had to run to Montana where you were forced to live off the land, hunting for survival in a Road Warrior world with the sun glistening off Mel Gibson's sweaty heaving chest as his tight muscular ass cheeks burst through his threadbare khakis while Denzel Washington rubbed hot cocoanut oil all over his arching, masculine lower back and George Michael sang Careless Whisper aboard a train going into a tunnel carrying Sir John Gielgud who was quietly dining on a banana and two meatballs..."
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?"
"I'm sorry, I'm hungry, I can't think straight."
"Well, leave me alone."
"But Fess Parker died."
"What?"
"Fess Parker. He's dead."
"So?"
"Well, it says here, 'Star of TV's Daniel Boone, Fess Parker, dead at 85. Autopsy revealed he died from an advanced form of bison meat deficiency.'"
"Alright, fine. I give up. Give me some of your goddamn Bison spaghetti sauce."
"There you go. Finish it off."
"Ugh. This is awful."
"I know."
"Well then why did you want me to eat it?"
"It's five dollars a pound. I'm not gonna just throw it away."
"Oh, I see, you make a stupid shopping choice and I have to eat a bowl of Chupacabra soup?"
"Come on, down the hatch. The Piggly Wiggly is having a sale on Bigfoot kabobs."
Copyright 2010 John Bizarre